She Doesn't Know She's Got It
by DearSweetPapercut
Summary: "Black lace drew delicate roses on her body clinging to every curve as she moved yet even closer to him with an impish smile that he had seen many times before." ...GSR...


This is what a brain that has pulled an all-nighter revising British Foreign Policy from 1865 to 1950 has come up with...

Set during 'Assume Nothing'- what Grissom could have potentially have been dreaming about had he fallen asleep on that vibrating bed.

Oh I went there...

I don't know whether to rate this T or M... it's somewhere between the two I think...

I'm also not sure whether this would be considered GSR... I think it would.

Title is a song by Blake Shelton.

Hope you all like it- forgive my sleepless ramblings- please review.

Disclaimer: I own zilch.

**She Doesn't Know She's Got It **

The first thing he noticed was the feel of velvet, thick and soft, beneath his fingertips as he hands gripped the structure that was holding him up. It was the lighting that struck him next, the moody blood red the split on the walls and the floors trickling from the bulbs above them. But there was something different- something bright- in front of him. It took Grissom's eyes a moment to adjust to the brightness of the spot light to see exactly what was on display.

A pair of four inch heels, tanned tones calves, legs that seemed to go on for days, smooth lace covered torso, cascading blonde hair- a woman. Not any woman- the stripper he had encountered earlier that day. Her blue eyes danced with the lighting, sparkling in his direction as her hips moved at a steady pace to music he didn't recognised.

"I knew you'd come back." She purred huskily at him as one of her legs wrapped around the pole that stood in the centre of her stage.

"You did?" He found himself responding as his hands gripped the chair in which he was seated tighter, his nails digging into the fabric. She nodded giving him a seductive smile as she tilted her head back exposing the elegant curve of her neck. Her arms stretched above her head holding the pole elongating her body as her hips titled forward giving him a tantalising view.

"So Mr Grissom..." She began moving towards the ground in the slinky manner her knees bending effortlessly her toes remaining perfectly straight- the moves of a dancer. "What do you want?"

"I don't know..." He replied slightly baffled by the beautiful woman in front of him. As much as he wanted to look away he realised that his eyes were fixated on her. She pulled back kneeling on the stage watching him with a coy expression as if she could read his mind.

"I know what you want..." Her voice filled the air causing a shiver to run down his spine- it was as if she had stolen his thoughts. "Close your eyes..."Grissom instinctively followed her instructions trusting her in a bizarre way.

"You can open your eyes now..." Her voice had changed, this time it sounded like someone familiar. He opened his eyes to find his breath hitching as a pair of familiar brown eyes watched him.

Sara was before him on the small stage in front of him on her hands and knees, her ankles flicked together behind her a devilish grin across her features as she slid off the stage effortlessly to her feet. Her beauty has his chest constricted as he attempted to breathe as her long legs moved like silk towards him. She stood less than a foot away from him her hips rotating in small circles. Her pale glistening form within arm's reach of him but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to touch her for the fear that she would disappear into nothingness if he did.

Black lace drew delicate roses on her body clinging to every curve as she moved yet even closer to him with an impish smile that he had seen many times before. It was a smile had had always had him hot under the collar as he attempted to focus at work. He drew a raggedy breath as she moved into the space between his legs. She turned around her inky black curls lashing out at him slightly as she did so.

"This is what you wanted is it?" She asked huskily looking over her shoulder at him in a way that had him melting.

"Ye-s" he groaned his eyes opening to the dingy green of the motel room- the sight of peeling paint, mould and cracked walls reinforcing the fact that he was no longer dreaming.

Grissom pulled himself up into a sitting position and rubbed his eyes attempting to rid his subconscious of his deepest desires.

"Nice dream?" Catherine asked with a raised eyebrow as she smirked on at his embarrassment standing in the day light her hair glowing in the light.

"My fifteen minutes are up...time to get back to work..." He attempted to brush aside the images that had made themselves comfortable in his mind.

Images he knew he'd never be able to shake...

**The End **


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